


Wet and Spiced Like Ginger

by Anonymous



Category: Hiveswap
Genre: AFAB but otherwise gender neutral reader, Comfort fic, Fluff, Other, Sometimes you have to write something to cheer yourself up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:48:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26805355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Ever wanted to test the theory that sex kills a headache?(Quick and messy fic from my tumblr; posting for archival reasons.)
Relationships: Marvus Xoloto/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 71
Collections: Anonymous





	Wet and Spiced Like Ginger

**Author's Note:**

> Little self indulgent fic I wrote for myself when I went through a mild migraine that lasted nearly a month. Sometimes you just need some "your favorite character comforts you" content ;-;

It snowballs.

Rest leaves you like fish startled in a stream; lifting your head from the pillows adds even more unimaginable tension to your body. Every day for the past week, your neck has been stiff and the back of your head has been tight. The pain is so bad that your stomach hurts. With the amount of ibuprofen, acetaminophen, and who knows what else you’ve been downing to deal with the pain, your liver and kidneys probably aren’t in great shape, either.

Your heart, though, that’s still working properly. So when Marvus texts you, you answer despite the light piercing your eyes like meat hooks.

Marvus: hey :o)

Marvus: come over

Some small part of you feels like you should be suffering through this alone. Maybe drink an absurd amount of water in case this is dehydration. Maybe go to Stelsa’s for some light exercise in case this is just your body being a weak ass bitch.

Marvus sends you a picture. You stop thinking with your head and start thinking with your pussy: isn’t the myth that sex can help with a headache?

Marvus: sent u a lyft babe

Marvus: so…. see u in 20 ;o) ?

The pain behind your eyes is blinding. You doubt you’ll be seeing anything in 5 minutes, let alone 20.

But who doesn’t love debunking a good myth?

* * *

Marvus meets you at the door. With a quick glance at you, he huffs a laugh and wraps his arm around your shoulders, leading you through his hive.

“Damn, shoulda known you was feeling some kinda low-low,” he looks over to you. “Still waiting on that praise, babe, most people pay that cold hard cash money for a pic like dat.” He pulls you closer to tousle your hair. “Even more if it’s of me, ya heard?”

“It _was_ a good pic,” you admit. You stop, grabbing him by the shoulders to look him in the face. “But don’t get this twisted. This is a booty call.”

“Oh word? I invited you here though?” You push him back against the wall as you press light kisses against the smooth skin of his neck. His weak spot; his hands pull you closer, sneaking soothing lines up and down your back, even as he tries to resist. “You think it really counts as a booty call if it’s ya matesprit, just wondering,” he starts to laugh. He’s still fucking talking.

Humming into his pulse, you step closer to him. “You’re so hot,” you tell him. It’s only about a tenth of the praise he deserves, but it’s something. “And you spoil me rotten.” You lick a patch onto his pulse point, grabbing him by the wrist. He hums as your breath cools the wet path of skin you left behind. “Spoil me a bit more tonight.” To punctuate your sentence, you bring the fingers of his left hand to touch you over your pants. You’re running so hot from nausea and general discomfort that his cooler body temperature is a relief, even through a layer of clothes.

“Damn, aight. Just tell me I’m sexy again.”

Despite yourself, you smile. “ _So_ sexy.” You nip your way up his jaw. “The sexiest.” Lips press against lips, so familiar it’s hard to say who drew who to whom. As your eyes close, Marvus’s other hand runs back down your back, pulling you closer, as his other slides into your pants.

“Mm, but we been knew that,” he smirks down at you.

It’s quiet, despite Marvus’s hand feeling you up and Marvus’s fingers against you. As far as performances go, well, you certainly haven’t been taking notes from your matesprit for this one.

For all that though, it feels good to be held and touched. His cold hands stave off your hot flashes. His sharp breath into your hair when you bring your hand to him, letting his bulge find your hand… actually, it makes your eyes throb. Everything is so loud that you go still.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he mutters into your hair, rocking you a bit. Seems you’ve been caught.

“My head hurts, my belly hurts, my body’s in shambles,” despite your words, you do your best to keep your tone playful. 

“Damn, ya pussy feels fine tho,” you slap him on the bicep and he laughs and laughs. You’re grinning, too, as much as you can. As if to drive home his point, he quirks his fingers, touching you the way you like. You smile despite yourself, leaning against him and letting him take your weight. The whole world is shaded in pinks and purples as you close your eyes and rest.

There are much worst theories to put to the test, and much worse ways to test them.

* * *

You come to with Marvus’s hand stroking your hair and find that your headache is gone. Hell, even if you’d been recently koshed in the head, you think it would be hard to feel anything but loved in this moment, with your face pressed to his chest and his hand in your hair and a song in his mouth.

He’s rocking you side to side, but once it’s apparent that you’ve come back to yourself, he rocks you harder.

“You okay? Gonna be sick?” You make exaggerated retching noises and he laughs. “Nah, you’re good. Come on, I got something for you.” 

He leads you through the hallway, moving to stand behind you before you open the doors to his room. He covers your eyes, pressing his body against yours to push you through the room.

Then he pushes you. Now you might really be sick; the world spins around you before you land flat on your back on a plush surface.

Looking back, you watch as Marvus closes a… curtain? At once, you do a double take. 

The floor around you is covered in pillows and blankets and heatpads. In the center of it all is a table, piled high with junk food but also stocked with a conspicuous supply of lemon-lime faygo (which is definitely not a thing on earth, where did he get that?), sparkling water (in the glass bottle with a stopper, that bougie bitch), and an actual chunk of ginger root. Enclosing your haven is a myriad of colorful patterned sheets and silks. 

It’s dark enough that even if you still had a headache, the light wouldn’t bother you, but bright enough that it won’t be depressing to spend hours in.

Marvus lumbers towards you, stepping carefully on the pillows to keep his balance.

“So there I was, not a day past nine sweeps on my first interview, thought I was bout to have fresh Xoloto vomit all over my titties in front of a live studio audience. Ain’t nobody wanna see that. My crew damn near had to hold me down to get this shit-” he grabs the chunk of ginger and wiggles it at you- “all in my maw LOL! But damn if it didn’t work though.” He takes a chomp out of it before offering it to you, gore first. “My secret.”

You look, bewildered, to the ginger in his hand. “But, uh, if that’s not your bag it’s all good. Got some lemony soda, too, and some bubbly shit if you want something weak sauce. It’s all gravy, babe.”

“No, it’s, we,” you start to giggle. “We have ginger on earth, where I’m from. Usually I boil it in water with some lemon? Like a tea, kind of. It’s a little intense from the source.”

His eyes go wide. “No shit!” His laughter joins yours. “Man, wish someone woulda told me that.” He takes another bite, twisting his face around it. “Gotta admit, though, it is comforting.”

You laugh, slowly lowering your head into his lap. “You’ve got some weird comforts, Marvus.” 

His eyes go soft as his hand massages your scalp and the base of your neck. 

“Ain’t that da truth.”

The world goes blurry around the edges again as he positions a heat pad around your shoulders.

And for now it’s enough to lie back and smell the ginger.


End file.
